Cranberry Beans

It’s nippy tonight – it has snowed in the mountains and it is raining in Delhi.  Some beans and rice is just what I would like…

I was lucky to get a little of the stash of fresh cranberry beans that a cousin brought over from a visit to the valley and shared with my mom who, indulgently, shared it further with me.  I had never seen these beans fresh before.  They are called thool razma in Kashmiri. Much rounder than the regular kidney beans, they do indeed, resemble tiny spotted eggs!  I had never cooked with them or even eaten fresh ones before so I asked my mom for some general directions.  She suggested I cook them with potatoes using the usual Kashmiri combination of fennel and dried ginger powder.

Walking down memory lane…

If you take a good look, you will find that the majority of the posts on this blog are around memories. Mostly memories about food. Yet, from the moment Manisha announced her IFR: Memories I seem to have been at a loss for words! Her deadline, extended, is looming and I can feel the pressure as she churns out post after daily post on IFR.

Many of my vivid memories are around food, which must be true for a lot of you. Despite nostalgia rendering most things pink, resurrecting food of our memories usually turns out well. Unless you are attempting to recreate your mother’s cooking. That one is hard to get spot on. Few can rival a mother’s prowess. Hopefully, our children will look at our cooking the same way, and we will have our spot in the limelight.

Just like this summer, before leaving for college, the son finally awarded me a 10-on-10 for my rogan josh. He also added that not only had I cooked a swell rogan josh, I now had my own secret ingredient for it! Which was true – I had tweaked my mother’s recipe a tad – I added a teeny weeny bit of ground mace. What was I to do – after trying in vain to match her rogan josh for ten years, I rebelled and made it better . Well, not really. By that time I had likely put in my time – the minimum requisite to get certification – behind cooking rogan josh to have finally got the art down. Yes, recipes evolve…in an effort to better your mom’s cooking when you can’t make it just like her. I bet my son’s food memories are starting to stack up.

Classic Shrikhand

My previous post didn’t quite make the cut for Express Indian: 6-ingredients-or-under because I had one ingredient too many and there were some protests that I was breaking my own rules. Little do you know that we Delhi-ites are like that only; we know rules are made so that they may be broken!  Nor are we about to turn over a new leaf just because the Commonwealth Games are round the bend and the honourable Minister of Home Affairs P. Chidambram feels we ought to mend our ways. Some things take time.

Meanwhile, here is another Express recipe, this time from TH’s home state of Maharashtra: second to none, the Shrikhand, a creamy dessert that comes together in no time and involves no cooking.  But do plan ahead, more so if you are planning to make the chukka (hung curd) at home.  Shrikhand tastes best if you allow 12-24 hours for the delicate  flavours to meld.  Some like shrikhand to be really smooth and achieve this by passing the mix through a sieve.  In our house we like some texture to shrikhand and skip this step.  My mother-in-law used to add a few spoonfuls of malai (clotted cream) to the chukka.  Every now and then there would be a tiny nugget of the soured malai that gave the shrikhand an additional richness and texture.  But gone are those days of buying fresh water-buffalo milk every morning (long live low-fat lifestyles), skimming the malai off, adding some yoghurt for culture, and collecting it over the next week or two to make butter and ghee. The buttermilk from churning this cultured clotted cream made the best kadhi. Undoubtedly. Sigh.

Palak Panir

I have been cooking a lot of express-Indian these past few months. In fact, my usual cooking is reasonably Express, and predominantly Indian. But this was additionally challenging because I was looking for 6 ingredients or less. I am going to take some creative license and add oil to the list of not-to-be-counted ingredients. There is just a tablespoon of it anyway.

Yes, really. And, no cream. Sorry to have been the harbinger of this disappointing information but it is true that in the ‘real’ palak-panir (pah-luk-pun-nir) there is no cream. The creamed-spinach is likely the contribution of some restaurant-cook to fulfill the expectations of Indian food (quasi-Punjabi-Mughlai in most restaurants abroad) shimmering in that layer of floating fat. You do serve sarson-ka-saag makhan mar ke (splattered-with-butter) but not palak panir. Or, maybe, the name-change that this dish underwent when it was exported to the Western shores might have had something to do with this. Palak-(ka-saag)-panir got mixed up with the aforementioned saag and somewhere along the way became saag panir.  Saag is the generic word for ‘greens’ in Punjabi, but when used by itself usually refers to mustard greens. I believe I have come across recipes (on food blogs) for mustard greens cooked with panir. Inspired? ConFusion? I will keep my counsel.  Maybe Punjabi-kudi can shed more light on this subject…

Another chance – a piece of cake?

Despite what you might be beginning to think. I haven’t fallen through any hole and disappeared from the surface of this earth.  Though, I came pretty close to just that this past weekend.

Given the hectic work pace of the past month, a fleeting thought that this might be our last chance to find some time with a young son on the threshold of adulthood (and college), and the by-now oppressive Delhi summer, we decided to steal a quick trip into the neighbouring Himalayan foothills.  A few calls and we were booked for an extended weekend in the tea gardens of Palampur.

But I am not going to be able to tell you anything about the tea there.  We never made it that far.  We had a nasty accident just a few hours out of Delhi and are really lucky to have made it back at all!  It even seemed a bit surreal after the crazy moments of the actual crash for the first few seconds of which we did not even know what was going on.  There we were turned 180 degrees and looking at the giant trailer that had just fish-tailed us!  Thankfully, the truck loaded with reinforcement steel wasn’t going too fast and came to a stop without dragging us too far or crushing into us further.  It was all over in a matter of seconds.  I looked around – all seemed okay, got out of the car and walked over to the side…. I was pretty amazed at my steady steps!

Good karma.   And another chance at A Mad Tea Party!

A silver lining of the botched trip was that I was able to be in town for a visiting friend.  Shilpa was going to come over with her daughter and friends for A Mad Tea Party.

Kanji on One Sunny Spring Day

Natural.  Home made. Brew with a (nonalcoholic) kick.  Lip smacking. Kanji.

Every winter I look at the black-purple carrots that appear in the vegetable markets of Delhi and the rest of Northern India, and make a mental note to track down a recipe for kanji. As far as I know, they are used only in the making of this fiery colourful end-of-winter drink. And every year passes just the same as the previous one.

Now, this blog has given me a lot of readers. Some of the readers have gone on to become good friends. Friends who share their views and opinions – and I am glad you are opinionated – share their likes and dislikes (of people, of colours and pictures on this blog and in general, punctuation and pronunciation, and of course, food related stuff). Some have been willing to risk sharing their blog… only to end up fuming later at some very persistent confusion regarding ‘the real owner of IFR’ as the movement spread! I wasn’t complaining about the unintentional link-love it brought. Especially, since I haven’t exactly been in the thick of it all this past year.

Birthdays and other days

Kashmiri Pandits, just like Bengali Brahmins, are known for their love of mutton and fish.  Just the sight of a goat can make my Bengali professor salivate.  Likewise, a Kashmiri is within her rights to discount a meal that did not include meat.

Food is perhaps amongst the most gossiped topics in the Kashmiri community.  The usual greetings and hugging are always followed by queries regarding the last meal.  How do you do?  What did you have for lunch?  The aunt will barely keep herself from clucking if you omit to mention some meat dish, real or imaginary, in your previous repast.  And you had better include the leftover morsel from yesterday’s meal while you are recounting the feast which is obviously your norm.  You can see the mental balancing underway as the relative from one side (paternal or maternal) weighs the meal in question (enjoyed at the other side) and determines who the winner would be after they are done serving you next. I have been accosted on the street – and after the pleasantries were done with -  “Ah, on your way from your maasi’s eh? So, what did you eat?!”  Now I look back at it with nostalgia; it did make our once-upon-a-time annual summer visits to Srinagar all the more colourful.

Yet, this blog speaks little of my nonvegetarian heritage.

Recharge those batteries: Express Breakfast

Banana Milkshake

1 medium banana, sliced
1 C (about 200ml) medium-fat milk (I use 3% for everything), chilled
sugar to taste (optional)
1/2 t vanilla extract

Blend everything. Pour into a glass – I make mine in a cup using a hand-blender and drink straight from that. Garnish with a few pieces of sliced banana if desired.

This is a great way to start off your busy day. In these roughly 200 calories I have covered a lot of ground for my daily recommended intake of calcium, Vitamins A, most of the Bs, C, and D, Magnesium, Potassium, and only 6-7 grams of fat (daily recommendation for healthy people is 25 depends on your age, gender, height, and fitness. For me it is 50 grams* of fat)! Calculate your recommended fat intake. Never forget that some vitamins (A, D, E, and K) are fat soluble and can’t be absorbed unless there is some fat in your diet.

Power up your breakfasts.

* Remember that this includes all kinds of fats – butter and oils you can see in your food, as well as those that are invisible but present in all food and produce – and that all fats are not created equal!

Simply Italian

Comfort food. Different things to different people. But always disarmingly simple. A few ingredients, a basic recipe, but the final outcome is something that satisfies a craving that nothing else will. A dish that wraps you around your home, your family, your culture, and many times, around the various stages of personal growth.

I am always drawn to such fare – what people cook on a regular basis in their kitchens, curious about what fits the bill for others. For many a Kashmiri it will have to be haak-baateh (braised haak greens served over rice), the equivalent of what dal-chaval is to a lot of other Indians.

When Meeta asked us to cook authentic Italian I became curious about Italian comfort foods…

Nothing says Italy like its food, and nothing says Italian food like pasta.

You could call it Kootu, I suppose

At the end of a more-than-full work day we all deserve to put our feet up and get the much needed rest.  Recharge our batteries.  Good wholesome food contributes much to this recharge.  Many of us also admit to the therapeutic qualities of the act of cooking itself!

Roth – the baked kind. Crusty, you think?
This is my entry for the September edition of Click! the photo event at Jugalbandi.

The last couple of weeks have been more fast paced than ever for me.  Work, work related travel, sister’s visit, Ganesh Chaturthi and the Pun Pooza, and the continuing house renovation, all came to a head. As if I didn’t have enough on my plate already, the maid had to make a sudden visit to her hometown – an extended three week visit.  Which isn’t so bad actually.  Now I can multitask – plan the meal as I brew my evening cup of tea, have all the burners going and cook the veggies as I temper the dal, or roll out roti, and not have to deal with less-than-perfect food prep.  Much better.

Last night, after a grueling 11 hour work day (when I was lucky to have two additional people helping out!) I knew I needed a special meal.  TH brought me a Toro Bravo while I was still at my desk.  It needed to be a rice-night (that means, rice as the main starch for me), I could tell. Nothing short of the comfort of good old Kashmiri food would do.  Though it was late, I prepared dum aloo along with my nani’s special mung dal and served it with steamed rice (and roti – for the undiscerning).

Caronde he Caronde

Please don’t mention Caronda* for some time…it is in every jar I had spare!  There is no room for any more pickles or preserves…As I mentioned last time, I made some caronda chutney a week ago, to use up part of my Dad’d harvest from a bush I planted about ten years ago in the front yard of their house.  I used the idea of a sweet-tangy Indian chutney such as saunth (sweet and sour tamarind chutney) or a mango chutney made with unripe mangoes.  The effort was much appreciated. Since it was a trial batch I got just enough to fill two tiny jars that I sent off to my mum and sister.  The next batch was a repeat of the recipe and this time the effort yielded a big jar – plenty, I thought.

There were still some carondas left which then went into a pickle, pits and all, along with some unripe mango, lotus root, and green chillies. I keep that stoneware jar in the sun, what little there is of it at this time, bring it in every evening, and give it a good stir.  It is looking good.

So far so good.  My mum liked the relish a lot.  She doesn’t eat too much pickle because of the high salt content.  I told her that pitting the fruit was a pain in the rear.  She pitted about a kilo with the help of her maid and presented it to me.  I had thought more like: ok, here’s a recipe you might like to try… But I came home and made my third batch of caronda chutney.  This batch had fewer ingredients – I had already used up my dates; no gur – I couldn’t be bothered; less sugar – I had used up a lot of sugar in the past couple of weeks between the caronda relish and the mango jam, and was making statements with big exclamatory marks regarding the sugar content of the chutney.  The fruit for this batch had ripened further on the plant, was a deeper pink, and there was a subtle change in texture too.  What a pretty pink it turned in the pan!  And the texture – why, it reminded me of sour cherries in syrup!  The slight crispness as you bite into one was so similar!  That made me Google for recipes using sour cherries and I found a bunch that hold promise for next year!  I make no promises…but there might even be Caronda Liqueur on these pages one day!

Express Wholegrain Pancakes

I think I have hibernated long enough.  And it is not even the season.  ‘Tis the season to be out and enjoy the rains – which, after it having rained most of May and all of June, have disappeared since we officially entered the monsoon season.  That’s the weather update for you.

A couple of weeks ago I was again confronted with two over-ripe bananas in the fridge – stored in the fridge so as to extend their pulpy lives further – and their demise looked nigh.  There were some other things in the pantry that needed to be used up before they turned bad.  Such as cornmeal from winter.  It will turn bitter unless I use it up soon. And we know how the Indian middle-class hates to throw out anything, especially food.

The Mangoes are Sour

A big chunk of my readers live outside India. And all of them will appreciate how I have tried not to rub salt on their mangoes wounds this year. There has been no talk of mangoes, whatsoever, on this blog so far this year; no debate on which mango is the King, or that mango is King.

But ’tis the season and you all have access to reasonably good unripe sour mangoes. Sour mangoes are loved all over Asia, cooked with dal, with vegetables (it is the perfect foil for bittergourd), or enjoyed as a relish such as Pel’s nam prik wan kap mamuang khiew. And when you don’t want to fuss, just slice them up, dip in salt, and taste nirvana. Not as much fun today when my teeth sour much too quick, but a favourite summer activity when we were kids.

Buried under…

This month I have been mostly…

…buried deep in work. I want so much to surface, get a breath of fresh air, and share my notes with you. But work takes priority; it does, after all, help pay the bills.

I have been eating healthy…mostly. Fresh cooked breakfasts had been sacrificed for the convenience of industrial bread…till the guilt caught up with me, and I decided yesterday that enough (of white bread) was enough. And how much work is idli, right?! Wrong. If you want sambar and chutney with it. Still, in about an hour this morning, much of which overlapped with my morning tea-and-newspaper-time, I had fluffy healthful ragi idlies! And there are leftovers for breakfast tomorrow as well!

Moongre ki Subzi (Radish Pods)

I seem to gravitate towards strong tasting vegetables – the pungent and very-brassica smells and tastes my husband likes to categorise as oogra. Nothing brings out the link between all the diverse members of the brassica family (such as broccoli, kohlrabi, haak, cabbage, cauliflower, radish, mustard, kale, and collard) like their flowers and seeds. All of them have the characteristic four-petal blooms (thus the name crusiferae – from ‘cross’ – for this group of plants, also collectively called the mustard family) and the brown-to-black oval-spherical seeds borne in tapering bean-like seedpods (a silique). Maybe now Nabeela will see why I first identified the mustard pods in her quiz as radish pods. The flowers vary in colour from white or cream to lavender or yellow, and are all edible!

Quinoa Soup with Spinach and Pumpkin

Snap, snap…blink, blink… Okay, I am really trying hard to snap out of it. The blog-lethargy that I have slumped into. Maybe it really is the cold (it was a freezing 2 degrees Celsius here in Delhi yesterday) and my brain has frozen over, in addition to my hands and feet. I have been sipping endless cups of tea everyday, hugging the cup in my hands to warm them briefly.

And it isn’t just cups of tea that I have been downing. Winter makes it hard to control calories. This is the time when peanuts (and all nuts and fruits that make up dry fruits) are consumed in large quantities in North India. The most popular way to consume peanuts is to throw a lot of woolens on and around yourself, huddle in a familial group, shelling and stuffing yourself while watching TV. They are the preferred snack at most Delhi bus stops where the peanut seller sits with his pile of peanuts-in-their-shells. He picks the nuts from just under the small earthen pot that has a gently smoldering piece of cow-chip in it, to weighs out hot peanuts that give sustenance and warmth, and also pass time while you wait for your ride to arrive.

Soups do that too – warm us up from the inside out. Winter is also particularly bountiful where vegetables are concerned. There is an abundance of greens: spinach, mustard greens, dill, methi, bathua, kohl rabi, and of course, haak and soutchal, two wonderful Kashmiri greens. Cabbage, cauliflower, broccoli, beetroot, corn, carrots, and tomatoes, add to this bounty, and make this a great season for soup.

101 uses for Mystery Powder

Before Srivalli completely gives up on me, here I am with my experiments with the mystery powder I received through our very own Arusuvai Friendship chain last month. For all my professed past-life claims, the podi Srivalli sent me had me at a complete loss. I have already admitted I am not good at de-constructing spice blends; I totally relied on Manisha’s intuition for kanda-lassun masala.

After staring at the yellow-orange-powder sitting in a packet on my kitchen counter for two days, I gingerly wrote to Srivalli about my predicament… The yellow powder was going to test my self-professed Southie-ness. I could taste turmeric… dhaniya… and… the rest was a mystery. Now, I have made a few South Indian podis: kootu podi, bisibele hulianna podi, milagai podi; this was definitely not one of those. Well, that left only one other podi I knew: sambar masala! So, I prayed and sent an apologetic note to Srivalli asking if that was Sambar podi I had in my possession. It amused her that I was so unsure… but of course, it was! Whew! I heaved a sigh of relief. My reputation (rather, claim) was intact; at least, for now.

Sookhi Gobhi Aloo

I love my vegetables and am especially fond of gobhi or cauliflower. All through winter it is the highlight of our menu on at least three meals a week. If I had to pick my favourite way to serve this, sort of like the-first-amongst-equals, it would have to be the Punjabi sookhi goobhi aloo, dry (here meaning without curry) cauliflower with potatoes. I wonder how I didn’t share this sooner?

One of the reasons it is such a regular part of our winter meals is because this vegetable is an all-pleaser. Everyone in this family actually agrees on this vegetable. Thank God for small mercies. There were initial mutterings about the other recipe (before I joined the household) that I would never cook…but they settled eventually on their own. This is a star recipe, and comes together very quickly. While the vegetables are cooking, you can prepare the roti and you have a wonderful meal ready in 30 minutes! Dal with it is good; yoghurt, better. Slice some mooli (daikon radish) on the side, or maybe you have some leftover bharleli mirchi, and you have put together a delicious meal in a jiffy.

Punjabi Garam Masala

Garam masala is among my oldest cherished spice blends, and I am proud to say that I have never bought it packaged. It is so easy to put together that you needn’t. The home made kind is more potent as it has none of the cheap spices that bulk-up commercial blends. A small amount goes a long way.

First things first. All Punjabi food does not use garam masala. If you don’t believe me, ask Punju Girl. Garam masala does not Punjabi cuisine make. Despite the fact that I love this spice blend and cook Punjabi food almost every other day, I use garam masala only occasionally, and sparingly.

Fried Rice, Again!

At last I have a recipe using brown rice that the whole family will eat. I might also come out in the open about the fact that I love white rice. While I do on occasion cook brown rice, I find white rice is more suited to absorbing the curries we all love so much. You can mush it up with dal, or with dahi (yoghurt), and it feels right. Brown rice just refuses to soften up despite all the pressure-cooking I subject it to, and then it dares me to refuse. A lot like dalia (cracked wheat). But I put dalia in its place once I realized I could eat my cake and have it too, sort of. I needed a recipe for brown rice that would make it really sing instead of the forlorn ditty, “I’m good for you.”

I tried Musical’s mothaan di khichdi (using sprouted moth as Nupur had done) and reluctantly agreed with my teen son that it would have been better with regular white rice. My son will not touch brown rice with a ten foot pole. But lap it up he did with his 10 inch chopsticks when I made it into fried rice!

Now, who doesn’t like fried rice! I bet that all of us have our own favourite version of this classic Chinese dish. There are many traditional Indian avatars of this dish too using leftover rice – Maharashtrians have their phodnicha bhath (literally, rice with tempering), and the many South Indian rice preparations use the same concept too (chitranna, tamarind rice) – leftover rice mixed into seasoned oil, with or without the addition of vegetables.

While most of the dishes consumed in India under the “Chinese food” label have the most superficial of resemblance to the cuisine of that ancient country (Chicken Manchurian is as Chinese as Chicken Tikka Masala is Indian), I will wager that home-cooks serve a decent version of Chinese fried rice. That is because the home cook likely limits his Chinese pantry items to the generic soy sauce; and most Indian homes are never out of ginger, onion, and garlic. I have since also bought myself a bottle of hoysin sauce, and will be using it in this rice (and pray that it is not blasphemy); fermented beans are on my list next.

How many have you? Nine kinds of rice in my pantry: Clockwise, from bottom: Goan brown rice, fragrant white Basmati, black rice (a gift from a friend!), a mix of Kerala red rice (rosematta) and a dark red rice from Uttaranchal (from Navdanya) – I use the mix in soups, par-boiled rice for idli (from Madras Store, INA), short grain brown rice, brown Basmati; center -lightly fragrant short grain rice from Madhya Pradesh, which I have been saving for Ver)

The fried brown-rice happened quite by chance. I had (pressure) cooked a big pot of Goan brown rice, swearing to eat no white rice for a whole month. The following day I Google-chatted with a certain friend too late into the afternoon that cooking lunch on time was not likely.

My family will readily eat bread and butter, or bread and eggs, whenever I forget them on account of this computer affair. Only, I feel guilty if I do that more than thrice in a week. And there was that healthy bowl of brown rice sitting in the fridge…and since Kylie Kwong, I don’t ‘chop fine’ the vegetables for my Chinese recipes…Half hour later we were enjoying a delicious healthy lunch of fried rice – egg fried rice for the son.

Easiest Fried Rice
(Serves 3)

4-5 C cooked brown rice (if using leftover brown rice, pressure cook or steam again to refresh)
2 + 1 T peanut oil
1 medium onion, sliced
a few cloves of garlic, smashed
1 T fresh grated/julienned ginger
2-3 whole red chillies (fresh or dry), sliced thin, on the bias
2-3 green chillies, sliced thin, on the bias
2-3 C prepared vegetables of choice (shredded cabbage, sliced carrots, bell peppers, mushrooms, green beans, broccoli florets – I had only green peppers that day)
1 T soy sauce
1 T hoysin sauce (optional)
1-2 t vinegar (optional)
¾ t ajinomoto (or salt to taste) [yes, I do]
1 egg, lightly beaten (optional)

To a hot karahi or wok, add 2 tablespoons of oil. To the hot oil, add garlic and ginger and stir till fragrant but not browned. Add the red chillies and onions and stir it all around till the onions change colour (a minute or so). Add the prepared vegetables and cook, stirring all the time, for 2-3 minutes, till the vegetables have all brightened up. Add the hoysin sauce and the soy sauce and mix. Add the cooked rice and stir. Sprinkle ajinomoto (or salt), and stir till heated through. Mix in the vinegar before removing to a serving dish.

Add the remaining tablespoon of oil to the wok. Pour the beaten egg (to which you have added a pinch of salt) into the hot oil, swirl the wok around and lift the egg slightly to allow it to spread and cook. As it starts to set, break it up into large chunks. Tip a third of the fried rice into the wok and stir to combine. Serve this portion to the egg-lover in the family.

Other takes on Fried Rice:

Kylie’s Delicious Fried Rice
Manisha’s Leftover Chicken and Rice
Inji’s Indian-Chinese Fried Rice
Sig’s sunny Sweet Corn Fried Rice
Japanese Fried Rice
Thai Fried Rice
Chinese Fried Rice

Tags: brown rice, fried rice, egg fried rice, rice, Chinese, egg, under 30 min!, vegetarian

Spicy Nutty Cluster Beans

Yes, about that stunner gavar recipe. I never cared much for these beans. It may have something to do with the name – in Hindi the word also means ‘a country bumpkin’.

Haak Time – It’s The Most Wonderful Time of the Year

If you are surprised at how heavily the dice is loaded towards Southern India on our dining table, then I have also been amazed to meet non-Kashmiri souls that have haak-rus ( haak- broth) flowing through their veins. Some even wrote poetry in the praise of haak! But for them, I would have never thought of writing about this most favourite of our greens – haak. Haak is the Kashmiri equivalent of the term ‘greens’ or the Hindi ‘saag’. So, we have monjji haak (cohlrabi greens), mujj haak (radish greens), vopal haak (dandelion greens), and vast haak. But the greens we love the most, we just call haak.

My Continuing Discovery of Indian Cuisines

I mentioned earlier the likelihood of my having been a South Indian in previous life. I believe there are people who are offended by this title – South Indian. I know not why. I do understand though, the umbrage at everyone from Southern India being (once) called ‘Madrasi’ by self-centered North Indians. May I add that for my grandma’s generation all non-Kashmiris were Punjabi – likely the only other state they had heard of from their insular position. “So, you married a Punjabi,” she would say.

Southern India is not a homogeneous region; neither is Northern India nor, for that matter, the Eastern or the Western parts of our country. And, just as the cuisine and customs of the Northern plains have a lot in common, the people of Southern Peninsular India also share a long cultural heritage.

While I have established (some might say – followed my tummy to) the general region of my previous birth as Dravidian India, I have not yet been able to point to the exact spot. In my early teens I already knew that Andhra and Tamil food gave me as much comfort as did my mum’s cooking. I relished the everyday-kind dal-based vegetable preparations (which I may not know by their names) served with thick short grain rice; idli smeared with fiery milagai podi was as much ambrosia as was tayir saadam. I discovered Kerala cuisine a little later – in my twenties – though it was confined to the odd fish curry, thorans and pachadis, and the exotic (to me) appams with either avial or ishtu.

If you are in southern India be sure to wear some flowers in your hair…strung flowers sold by arm-lengths!

Whew! It’s Over! Time for Some Breakfast

Party fatigue took over. But since I promised a concluding post, I will tell you a little bit more about the wedding and the events after the mehndiraat.

On the morning of the wedding, preparations were on for the Devgon – a ceremonial cleansing of the self to get ready for the next phase in one’s life – entering the grihasta (family) ashram. In India, it has always been said that a marriage is a relationship not just between two individuals but between two families. The living members and those who have passed on to the other realm. On this day the groom and his family first seek the blessings of their ancestors by performing the pitr pooja.

Hindu philosophy believes agni (fire) to be the ultimate cleanser – it can never itself be sullied or polluted, and all are equal before him. Devgon is performed around this sacred fire. The groom-to-be sits by the fire after a ceremonial bath and offers prayers to Goddess Parvati and Lord Shiva. All the elders of the family participate in the ceremony and fast till the conclusion of the havan.

Daughters of the family are always a part of the ceremonies with the bua (father’s sister) enjoying an enviable position. She prepares kheer and monjjvor (flattened moong dal vadas) on this day which are offered to the Gods and then distributed to all family members to break their fast. The function is usually followed by a simple vegetarian meal of rice and vegetables. Our lunch that day comprised of a yellow subzi of pumpkin, a fiery red dish of radish and potatoes cooked with nadur (lotus roots), and served over steamed rice with yoghurt. (Read more about Devgon and Kashmiri wedding rituals here).

Zafraani Zamodod

plain dahi

Zafraan (Persian)/kesar (Hindi)/kong (Kashmiri) or saffron, is the most expensive spice in the world, worth more than its weight in gold. In India it has always been measured in tolas, a unit of measure used for weighing gold (approximately 12gm). Kashmiri saffron with its long and deep maroon strands and a delicate aroma is the most valued in the world.

If you were ever disappointed with your Kashmiri saffron, and wondered what the fuss was all about, it is likely that you received saffron that was blended with the less expensive Spanish or Iranian saffron. A few months back my Mom got hold of a little of the real stuff through a cousin working in Kishtwar (Kashmir). Despite having all her culinary secrets revealed here she gave the entire lot to me! Isn’t she the best?

Very little Kashmiri saffron is exported, most of it being consumed within India. It is an ideal flavouring for Indian desserts which are mostly milk based. Occasionally it is also used in savory preparations such as pulaos and biryanis.

In Kashmir, it is primarily used in desserts such as the Modur Polav, and Kheer. On special occasions it may also be used to flavour Kahva. During weddings it gets sprinkled on top of our much loved zamodod/dahi (yoghurt) served in earthen pots to guests at the banquet, and also on the larger pots of dahi that make up the goodies (including nuts, fruits, and giant balls of rock-sugar, called nabud in Kashmiri, and mishri in Hindi) that the new bride brings with her to her new home. Those of you who have had Shrikhand will know how special dahi becomes with the addition of saffron.

Green Chilli Pickle

Almost every region of India boasts a chilli variety with its own unique qualities in terms of flavour, colour, and heat. Kashmiri chillies have a deep red colour but are otherwise mild; Andhra chillies with their bright colour and fiery heat are shown off to great advantage in their pickles; and now we’ve all heard about the bhut jolokia from Assam that holds the world record for the hottest chilli.

Athana in Rajasthan is also famous for its chillies. The long and fleshy Athana mirch is pickled whole and is favoured by the Marwari community. The chillies are slit and stuffed with a mix of spices that include fennel, coriander, mustard, methi seeds, turmeric, and amchoor. A similar large chilli, much like the Bhavnagri mirch, is made into the most delicious mirchi vadas the best of which are to be found in Jodhpur.

Express Cooking: Meal #2 (Punjabi)

So, we were talking about Express Meals…

After that generic ‘Indian’ pulao, let’s get region specific. Tonight it is going to be Punjabi, a cuisine that is second nature to me since I have been surrounded by the sight, smell, and taste of this cuisine since childhood.

Very early on, my mother adopted roti-subzi as the ideal packed lunch for all of us. You can’t beat the convenience of a roti or parantha with a sookhi (dry) subzi, sometimes perked up with a little pickle, for school tiffin. No spills, no mess, and no spoons or forks needed.

Since my mother learnt roti-making from her Punjabi neighbours, her rotis were the thicker north Indian kind. Punjabis prefer the flour much coarser than do Maharashtrians and Gujaratis, who make very fine rotis. Punjabi roti is at least double that of the latter in weight. And that is how I made roti till I got married…

Express Cooking: Meal #1

Mallugirl has thrown a challenge to prepare meals that take just 10-30 minutes from start to finish. Ten minute meals will naturally have to rely on processed foods or some amount of pre-prep. But 30 minutes is long enough to put together something decent from scratch. With the trusted pressure cooker, and a 3-4 burner stove, there are many meals you can put on the table in that much time.

For me it is deciding what to cook that is the hard part. Once that’s done, it’s all easy from there. In fact, I think most of my everyday cooking falls within that average of 30 minutes of active time (check the under-30-minute category).

Greek Cucumber Salad

This is my son’s favourite salad. And it is, perhaps, the oldest recipe in my repertoire. I read the recipe in National Geographic Kid’s, NatGeo’s magazine for children, when I was about 13 years old, and have been making it since.

Yes, it is very much like the Indian cucumber raita. But with a twist. This raita includes lime juice, which I had thought odd, since dahi is already a little tart. But am I glad my young mind didn’t decide to omit it! I have a rule of sorts – the first time around I try to stick to a recipe as much as possible, substituting only if an ingredient is unavailable.

Axe Soup aka Bottle Gourd Peel Chutney

Kulhadi ka dalia is the Hindi translation of the Russian folktale Axe Soup that I read many summers ago. It is a version of Stonesoup, and a story that I find similar to this bottle gourd peel chutney.

You’ve all probably heard some version of the story in your childhood. In Stonesoup the message is more about the pleasure of sharing and the good that comes from cooperation. The Axe Soup carries a subtle lesson about human management – how to use the inherent greed in fellow humans, of wanting to get something out of nothing, to get out of others more than they are willing to give.

But little do we expect to ever come face to face with legends outside of books of tales.

Monjji Haak…at long last

For all their love for goat meat Kashmiri Pandits love their greens with an almost equal passion. There are many types of greens, wild and cultivated, that find their way to balance the daily meals.

If that be so, you might well wonder how come there has been no Kashmiri greens recipe on this blog yet. The fact is that the most common way with our most popular green, the haak, is also the least spectacular. In a matter of speaking, you may say they are just blanched greens. My non-Kashmiri side of the family didn’t think it was anything to write home about. So I didn’t. And my son and I continued to secretly also relish the fact that there would always be more for us!

Kahva – no ordinary Cup of Tea, and a Quiz

A cup of tea is just what I need tonight. Even in this stifling heat. Just the act of making the tea is a sort of unwinding. The relaxation comes as much from the process of making tea as it does from the cup itself. And a cup of tea is what we are going to have.

As a typical Indian, I am a die-hard tea-aholic. And no matter how low-brow it may be, I really love black tea served with milk and sugar. I love the Punjabi tea which is more milk than water that has been boiled with black tea leaves, and some ginger (during cooler weather), and not a little sugar. I also like what I drink everyday – a mix of equal parts (by volume) of granular black tea (Brooke Bond Red Label) and green tea (Brooke Bond Green Label) steeped in hot water for a few minutes to which I add a little milk and just a wee bit of sugar.

A Rose is a Rose is a Rose!

“A rose by any other name would smell as sweet,” spake the great Bard, though he may not have been alluding to the flower at all. And there are many magnificent rose hybrids today that are a lot of show, but hardly any legendary fragrance.

R is for Rosa. The Indian desi Gulab or musk rose (Rosa moschata), a very fragrant rose variety, is closely related to the Damascus rose (Rosa damascena) that originated in Persia. It produces small flowers (2 to 3 inch across) with red or pink petals. The petals retain their delicate fragrance long after drying, which makes them an ideal ingredient for potpourris. The desi gulab is grown on a large scale for the ayurveda and cosmetic industries.

Rose oil is an essential ingredient in itr, oil-based Indian perfumes. Rose water is used in the preparation of many Indian and middle-eastern dishes. A hint of fresh roses is what makes the rasgulla taste so refreshing. Gulab ark (rose extract) is also a key ingredient in Hamdard’s ever-popular summer drink Rooh Afza. Milk shakes made with Rooh Afza are part of my childhood memories – what a deliciously pretty pink that milk shake is!

Gulab, along with the fragrant mogra (Jasminum sambac), is (was?) the flower of choice, to decorate a newly-wed couple’s room (a bed of roses?). Some of the rose petals strewn on our bed got into the gaps of the mattresses and delicately perfumed the bed for months!

A Delhi Summer – On the Streets

It is not easy to sum up an old city like Delhi, with all the layering, in one post. And I am not planning to attempt it.

In this city of 10 million people there is no getting away from the crowd. There are people everywhere, and they continue to pour in – from smaller cities and the villages. The biggest influx into Delhi was in 1947, during the Partition of the country, when many Hindus and Sikhs from West Punjab (now in Pakistan) sought refuge.

It is only natural that a city 3000 years old has imbibed influences from all over the world, and these are reflected in its culture – art and architecture, language, and of course, in its cuisine. The Persian influence is prominent in the Mughlai cuisine, though the Punjabi flavours predominate today. But whosoever came and settled here had to deal with the hot and dusty summers.

An Amaltas in all its glory

Not that that is an entirely bad thing. How else would the mango be so sweet? While the temperate world revels in its fall colours, we have a green green spring followed by the vibrant summer. The sun makes our greens shine, the reds brighter, and the yellows sunnier. Who can rival the Gulmohur (Delonix regia) or the Amaltas (Cassia fistula), when it comes to a show of colour?

The King of Fruits

Thawed, sliced Amrapali (from my Dad’s trees)

Summer is peaking in Delhi and there is, on the Web, a lot of hot air around the most beloved of our fruits, the Mango. On it being exported to the US. On Hapoos vs. the Rest. All the heated debates and discussions are rooted deep in our love, bordering on reverence, for this most delicious of fruits. The Mango is believed to have originated in India, and the best varieties still do! There is no debate over that

The mango is no ordinary fruit; it is woven into the warp and weft (literally!) of this ancient country and its customs. Torans made out of the leaves of the mango tree adorn the doorway of Hindu homes on auspicious and religious occasions, and are included into many of the associated rituals. The tree and its fruit are symbols of fertility and abundance, love and devotion. It is also referred to as Kalpavriksha or Kalpataru, the mythological wish-fulfilling tree.

Babur, the first Mughal emperor, called it the ‘finest fruit of Hindustan’. The beautiful mango tree with its evergreen fronds was frequently featured in the beautiful Kangra school Miniatures.

fruit laden Amrapali (in my parents’ garden)

The beautiful mango is the inspiration for the ageless Indian motif, the ambi that weaves its way into sarees and other textiles. The ambi was later modified into the elongated Kashmiri badam (almond), better known all over the world as the Paisley motif, after the Scottish town where machine-made copies of the exquisite Kashmiri embroidered shawls were manufactured in the 19th Century.

Of Wadis and Papads

Harmandir Sahib, Amritsar, Punjab

Despite living in Punjab’s neighbourhood all my life it is only this year that I finally visited Amritsar for the first time. While I couldn’t find much time for a city tour, I did visit the Harmandir Sahib in the evening. Harmandir Sahib, also called the Golden Temple because of the gilding on its walls and domes, is the most sacred of Sikh shrines. Work on the temple started in the late 16th C and over the next couple of centuries it attained much of its present form. Maharaja Ranjit Singh is credited with the exquisite marble and gold work on the temple.

Outside the Temple are many shops and dhabas catering to pilgrims and the casual tourist. I was told the best place to buy the famed spicy Amritsari wadis and papads was right there. I picked on one that claimed to be dealing in these commodities for over a 100 years. Seemed like they would know what a good wadi should be.Wadis are available with varying degrees of spicy-ness. I naturally, asked for the spiciest ones. Then I had to pick between ‘with or without plums’. Hmm…with plums sounded nice, but plain ones are classic. So I got both. When I was paying for them there was some confusion regarding which were which – after discussing at length I managed to confuse the shopkeeper as well . To tell you the truth, I couldn’t tell even after cooking, unless by some strange coincidence, I ended up keeping all of one kind for myself and distributing the other between family and friends. Family and friends, those of you with better sense of taste, please stand up and let us know if you detected any note of tart plums in yours.

Mint and Walnut Chutney

Mustard fields, Punjab

Spring arrives early in the Northern Plains of India. The Hindu calendar marks Basant Panchami as the first day of spring. Basant coincides with blooming mustard fields, and it is from these perhaps, that the colour yellow has come to symbolize spring to us. If you have ever seen a mustard field in spring you will know the magic I am talking about. Reading about spring and cherry blossoms on other blogs also reminded me of Kashmir. Blossoms of the cherry and the almond trees herald the arrival of spring in the valley.

If anyone likes warmer weather it is my potted mint. After looking sad all winter it perks up at the sight of spring. As the bright green leaves begin to grow they find their way into a lot of things in my kitchen – omelettes and scrambled eggs, cold soups and salads, refreshing jal jeera, and into many a chutney. All of you probably have your favourite recipe for mint chutney. As do I.

Whole Wheat Pita and some Labneh

The Arab-middle east-North Africa region, even the Mediterranean, have much that can be thought of as a common food heritage with the Indian subcontinent. The use of spices such as cumin, peppercorns, nutmeg, and bayleaf provide for the linking aromas, and the prominence of lentils and beans as a major ingredient in everyday food also speaks of a shared history. I find the similarities even more striking with North Indian food.

It is a cuisine for which the Indian palate needs no gradual tuning. We can embrace it in a bear hug the very first time we meet.

Besides the similarity in the use of spices, lentils and beans, as also vegetables, I find the plentiful use of yoghurt and the variety in flatbreads another reason for its easy adaptability to the Indian meal time. Even when meat is part of the meal, it is never the meal itself, and will always be served with some bread akin to out roti/parantha, and maybe a small bowl of dahi, the kind that has become better known as Greek-style yoghurt.

Tomato Chutney

Tomayto-tomahto, tamahtar-timahtar. What a vegetable! Yes, yes, I know, technically it is a fruit, a berry. And a berry good one it is . So good that even Kashmiris have begun to include it into their traditional recipes, tamatar-baingan being among my Dad’s favourites. But there’s no Kashmiri recipe today. Let’s do another one for ‘the left-side’, the side reserved on the Maharashtrian thali for pickles, relishes, and chutneys.

There is this tomato chutney I make that uses just a few ingredients. I watched Sanjeev Kapoor make it many years ago on his very popular show Khaana Khazaana. I didn’t note down the recipe but since the ingredient list was short I was able to make a very decent chutney when I tried it soon after. I have made it many times since but always going by ‘feel’ as most of us who have been cooking for a considerable time tend to do. When you do that, it becomes hard to write recipes down. This blog is becoming a repository where I must commit to measurable units. Already, I check here for a couple of my own recipes! So, today I measured as I went about adding the ingredients.

Relishing the Radish

Here is another Kashmiri vegetarian recipe. It is special because it is one of the few accompanying dishes that make up Kashmiri cuisine. The rest of India has a mind boggling variety of things to be ‘served on the left side’ of the thali. Let me explain this. There is a specific sequence to serving food in Maharashtra. You start with a bit of salt on the left side. This is the side reserved for all accompaniments: chutneys, pickles, wedges of lemon, koshimbirs (salads) or raitas. Bhajjis (pakoras), if part of the meal, will also find room here. Next will be a katori of daal, and then to the right of the thali is the main subzi. Rice and roti are towards the lower centre of the thali. The sweet, somewhere in the middle, is always served along with the meal. Even for everyday meals you will have something served on the left, even if just a pickle, though chutneys are served frequently. It would sadden my MIL to serve just a pickle ‘daavi kade‘ (on the left side!).

I have no idea why the Northern most state of our country is so lacking in this category. Maharashtra, Gujarat and all the Southern states lay as much emphasis on this ’side’ to introduce a complexity of texture and flavour into their cuisine. It might have something to do with Kashmiris being obsessed with their meat or the harsh climate making cooking harder with women concentrating on getting the meat cooked in time for the unusually early meal times. Lunch, in most houses, would be ready and served before 10:00 in the morning. Everyone ate and went to work or school. Where was the time to sit and pound different things together in a pestle and mortar? The plentiful fresh fruits and vegetables such as radishes and cucumbers are perfect for snacking and getting the crunch that might have been missed at meal time.

Though there are just a few chutneys and raitas but these are much loved and used over and over. One loved vegetable is mooli (daikon radish). It is cooked with fish or nadur (lotus stem) to lip-smacking results. It is also the vegetable of choice for making our most popular raita – mujj chatin. For some reason it is called a chutney. Grated mooli added to thick salted dahi with chopped green chillies mixed in. Red chilli powder and a pinch of shah zeera (black cumin) is totally optional. This is the only Kashmiri dish in which I will use a garnish of coriander leaves. I love coriander, but it is not traditional to Kashmiri cuisine.

New Chocolate Chip Cookies

Time to get back to some cooking business. My son seconds the thought. He is presently in the middle of his X Board Exams. Two down, three to go. And I had promised to bake his favourite chocolate chip cookies during his preparatory holidays. He reminded that if I continued like this his exams would soon be over, with no cookies whatsoever.

Tomorrow is his Sanskrit paper and I could see it was getting harder to make him stay in his room. So we made a deal: I’ll bake the cookies, and he’ll try to keep his butt in his room. Moms are allowed to bribe a little when they think prudent. It is more like an incentive. And he has been good (he just might have aced the Math paper!! Yay! He got a hug for that! ).

I started the preparation just before lunch time. Bad idea. The lunch needed to be fixed as well. In my rush, I didn’t look at the recipe carefully enough. It called for rolled oats which I never have. So I had to resort to the recipe on the Nestle semi-sweet morsel package. I was still not paying close attention. That called for oats too! Before I knew it I had a huge batch of dough and a new recipe. Less fat. I wasn’t about to dump my month’s ration of butter into the cookies, no way. So I replaced it partly with vegetable oil. These turned out really great. And I wrote down the ingredients right away before I could forget.

For the Love of the Potato

The potato, though sometimes maligned, is easily the world’s most popular vegetable. I totally know the meaning of this Irish proverb: “Be eating one potato, peeling a second, have a third in your fist, and your eye on a fourth.” We Indians consume a reasonably impressive 24 kilos per capita. My favorite are the starchy floury kind, which love to absorb all the moisture you will provide. Read more about the history and cultivation of potatoes in India.

All you skeptics believe me when I tell you that it is also one of the most nutritious vegetables: a 250gm serving of potatoes is under 200 calories, a rich source of protein, starch and fibre, as also vitamin C. It becomes less healthy only when served as deep fried chips, or cooked in oodles of fat. Cooking with the skin, or boiling and peeling are the best ways to preserve most of the nutrients.

Sookhe Aloo was the opening post on this blog followed by other favourite ways to dish up potatoes. I have stated my love for the spud with every recipe featuring it. Busy though I have been this month, I am not going to let go an opportunity to showcase it. People, welcome The Potato, to the JFI Hall of Fame. No vegetable deserves it more.

As I look back at the pictures of what I have been cooking this month (and never getting around to writing), I was impressed. I cooked it for breakfast, for lunch, and for dinner. As the main dish, for the one dish meal, and as the helper dish. Preparations from Northern, Southern, Eastern and Central India, and a few ways I learned on the other side of the world, half-way across. And it found its way into many combinations as well: gobhi-aloo, baingan-aloo, sabudana khichadi, mixed veggies…

Trifle Pudding

Trifle is amongst TH’s favourite desserts. My sister introduced us to this delicious dessert when she was a Home Ec student at Lady Irwin College. And she would make it from scratch, the cake, the fruit jam, the works. And TH was totally impressed with his sis-in-law-to-be.

The other day I happened to catch Nigella Lawson on TV (and I said to myself, “So this is the Nigella that everybody talks about!”). Interesting, to be named after a spice and end up getting your fame in the world of food. So, anyway, she was all for something bought, something whipped, to put together a Trifle in a lot less time. We had a friend coming for dinner later in the evening, and it had been a busy weekday. And ‘twas the season for chocolate too…

This is not exactly as Nigella demonstrated. Like we ever follow any recipe in toto! My substitutions resulted in a much lighter dessert and I didn’t need to rush out looking for exotic ingredients, just a visit to the neighbourhood dairy for some fresh cream, and some cake from the same market. The chocolate cake was substituted with Britannia’s fruit cake which all neighbourhood grocers stock. Instead of ‘real’ custard made with cream, whole milk and eggs, I used custard powder and my every-day 3% milk. I used Hershey’s semi-sweet morsels since there was no fancy chocolate available (and would have cost a day’s worth of salary, if it was). Cherries and cherry liqueur were replaced with raisins soaked in rum, and Kahlua diluted with plain water. I was able to use fresh cream for fresh cream though. Wow!

Follow these steps for a quick dessert in line with the blogosphere mood-of-the-moment. Happy Valentine’s day to you too.

Thai Chicken Soup

It was going to be a very cold New Year’s Eve – and hot soup and home-made bread were going to be the perfect foil.

JFI for this month is featuring the coconut, and I did want to make something specifically for the event. Thai soup with a coconut milk base seemed like the perfect solution. Except that, as mentioned earlier, TH has no taste for fish sauce. So I was going to have to make two versions: one (the real McCoy) with and one without the fish sauce. And since it was going to be so, there was no reason why the first one should not have some chicken as well.

Crispy Cabbage Pakoras

Everyone likes fried food. And all of us have our variations of batter-fried vegetables. Sometimes, even fruit. Sometime back, Melissa wrote in praise of pakoras on her blog. And I have been wanting to blog about these pakoras since.

I am not sure how many of you have made cabbage pakoras but these are amongst my favourite, second only to pyaaz bhajjies (onion pakoras).

Spicy Onion Rings at the K State Union cafeteria would hit the spot whenever I was homesick for pakoras, and definitely not in the mood for a sugar-kick. I have a very sweet tooth, but it was salt I really missed as a Grad student in the US. Giant muffins, mammoth cookies everywhere, but only fries to satiate the salt cravings. Like most Indians, I prefer a spicy savory snack with the mid-morning or evening cuppa. The sweet may follow; but first, the salt and the spice. It is to this hall of fame that the now well-known samosa also belongs.

Growing up, I never had cabbage in a pakora. My mum was quite innovative with the vegetables she batter fried – eggplant, tomatoes, cauliflower, spinach leaves, in additional to the usual suspects – potatoes and onions. And then one day I saw my MIL shred some cabbage leaves, throw them into the spiced besan batter along with a spoonful of sesame seeds and some left-over rice as well, to make the most delicious of pakoras. These would invariably accompany an elaborate traditional meal showcasing pooran-poli, the delicious stuffed sweet rotis, that are a Maharashtrian delicacy.

Til Chutney (Sesame Peanut Chutney)

Just a nip in the air and we start craving winter foods. Yes, it gets cold here in Delhi. We have already touched 6 C, and it will get colder. I must remember to bring the plants that are not frost-hardy inside because the mornings will get frosty soon.

Just like the seasonal winter bounty of vegetables, there are other foods that make an appearance only in the winters. As the body craves warmth we gravitate to the foods that are considered ‘warming’. Peanuts, sesame seeds (til), and jaggery are just made for this numbing weather. On cue appears the moongphali-wala (peanut seller) with his heap of roasted peanuts-in-their-shells topped with the small terracotta pot with a bit of coal or upla (dung cake) in it to warm the peanuts. Snacking on the warmed peanuts while endlessly waiting for the DTC buses is a memory etched in the minds of many Delhi-walas.

Carrots, Peas and Potatoes with Dill

At first I thought I should stay away from the normal and mundane. But I also know that more often than not I am looking for someone else’s normal and routine; something that will take the same-old-same-old out of my lunch and yet have the same simplicity and wholesomeness that comes from tradition; from generations of being tested in home-kitchens till perfect. Most of the ‘new’ dishes I have tried from other bloggers are what are obviously their everyday favourites.

So I present today the humble carrots and peas with dill. Dill (soa/soya ka saag) is another of our winter greens, but one that finds few none takers in this household. But I, fearlessly, feed them this dish at least a couple of time every winter, hoping it will grow on them. As for me – well – I simply love it.

Stuffed Chillies

It’s time for stuffed chillies again!

Cooking continues to be very seasonal here in India. And I hope that tie-ups with global giants with their low-prices-everyday will not change this.

Seasonal changes are less perceptible in the urban landscape of most of India. The majestic Himalayas cast their wondrous spell only in the North and North-east and help keep most of India pretty warm year around. So, only a few of us see the changing seasons reflected in spring flowers, summer blooms, colourful autumns, and a white winter. If there are no summer flowers, then that is when our trees pull out all the stops. Who can compete with the Gulmohur or the Amaltas (Indian Laburnum) at the height of summer?

But all of us see the change in the seasonal availability of produce. The coastal areas, while probably seeing most vegetables year–round (where’s the fun in that!), get their fruits when ’tis the season. You can get gorgeous red apples and kiwis from New Zealand in the summer, but their exorbitant pricing restricts the clientele to ex-pats. Besides, who’s going to eat Rs200/kg apples when you can have mangoes for 40!! No competition there. And the mango season in Delhi is really long (Thank you, dear God) – starting in May with mangoes from the South (Totapuri -yuk- and Safeda - yum), to well into July when we finish off with the UP jewels, Dusseri and Langda.

Refrigerator Pickles

Fibre, over at 28 cooks, wrote about vegetable pickles. I bookmarked it and then let it slide (going back to drool on the picture now and then). And then Tea at Tea and Cookies wrote about her version of radish pickles and I thought I absolutely must make these. And then she posted about them again. What was I to do?

You may have had all kinds of pickles (and there is no limit to the variety in Indian pickles!) but, as far as I know, these are the best looking pickles. Ever. One look and you will not be able to keep yourselves from making them for very long.

Even that blog-her friend of mine who is on a diet plan . This is no oil-based Indian pickle, but more like a salad just waiting in a jar.

I looked at the other links from the above blogs and then tweaked the basic recipe to suit the ingredients I had at hand. Without further ado, let me get to the recipe. The pictures sell the pickle! It sits in my fridge like a glowing ruby, getting deeper every day.

All the Goodness of Eggs

I have never been into fad diets. Nor do I reposit my faith in pretend foods. Why would anyone eat I Can’t Believe It’s Not Butter when you can have the real thing which is Butter. But when I was younger I did attempt ‘altering’ my diet occasionally.

To find an alternative to tasty butter-toast, I would quick-cook a bunch of ‘green’ things – onions, tomatoes, sweet peppers, sometimes mushrooms, lots of coriander, some mint and green chillies – season it with salt and pepper and serve it on toast. A delicious alternative you will agree.

Spread #1: cream cheese with sun-dried tomatoes

As I said, there are many tastes that we try to recreate within the limitations of the Indian home kitchen. Earlier the challenge was the unavailability of the fancy ingredients. Now, when most are readily available, I sometimes refuse to buy ‘ordinary’ ingredients such as Philly cream cheese or sun-dried tomatoes if they’re going to cost an arm and a leg. There are others like fish sauce which I must. I haven’t looked for a recipe yet, and doubt if TH will be all that understanding if I stink up the house instead of just the dish I am going to eat all by myself. Believe it or not, I’m the only one who likes Thai in this house!

Now, the cream cheese base I use here is something I have used for years and years. But I used to call it curd-cheese till I had Philly for the first time. So, on my return to India, I knew cream cheese would not be hard to get.

Sun-dried tomatoes?? How to get these without burning a hole in the pocket for something that is basically not so dear? Brace yourself people, here comes another tip that will save many of you who may be the quintessentially penny-pinching Indians (like me . It’s a good thing!) some moolah, or help out those of you away from what we erroneously call ‘civilization’, or even those who just want to have more control over what goes inside.

Now, all of us have heard of cooking with dried vegetables, right? Nothing new there. In Kashmir it was very common to dry most vegetable for use later in the winter months when everything would be blanketed in snow. Turnips and turnip greens, egg plant, cauliflower, and even bottle gourd! Dried vegetables have a unique taste and smell all their own. As does hawgaad, the tiny dried fish cooked with other things. I never liked that; only smell, no meat.

If you can dry gourd, you can pretty much dry anything, I thought. And Italians obviously dry the tomatoes in sun?!

Instant Gratification: Rava Idli

Back to my favourite cuisine, food from Southern India.

The down side of this cuisine is that a lot of the quick-cooking foods require planning ahead – at least by a 24 hours! I am talking here of the breakfast/tiffin items such as the dosai and the idli. But a couple of weeks back I had this urge to have idlies, and I wanted them that very minute.

I had heard of rava idlies but never made them. Actually, never had them either.

Let me take a moment here and tell the non-natives about the correct pronunciation before these become popular in the West as super healthy fluffy fat-free breakfast thingies and everybody starts talking about them, and NDTV decides that the American pronunciation is the correct way to say the word. I kid you not – have you never heard their ‘nature’ correspondent, whats-her-name, say Him-la-yaas for what is the bloody-lofty Himalaya! (Correct pronunciation: Him-aa-la (rhyming with ‘the’)-ya (like ‘yuh’). And someone should also help them with the right way to say ‘Mumbai’. It’s not Moom-bye. It’s cute when Americans say it (just as my friends thought it was ‘cute’ when I said ‘vet’ when I meant ‘wet’!), but for Indians to forget the name of the lofty sentinel in the north – too cute.

WBB#6 Twisted Dalia?

Some like porridge. Some will not touch it with a ten-foot-pole. My family falls in the latter category. But dalia* is a healthy way to include fibre and when made into a porridge with milk can keep you going well till lunchtime.

But even I cannot have porridge more than once in a couple of weeks. And, so the packet of dalia lay woefully in the larder with no takers. Being the true Indian that I am, I am loathe to dump food that is not either totally infested or rotting.

Necessity is the mother of invention, they say. And this is the only dish I have ever created. Any resemblance to any other dish is unintentional and purely coincidental . Mostly I adapt recipes to suit what is available, or change a few proportion to suit my inclination, but this is something I put together all on my own, though I admit it has been inspired by couscous.

I had couscous once, a long time ago, when my sister prepared it in our university apartment. Couscous, which is partially cooked wheat that has been coarsely ground, requires only soaking in hot water to serve. Dalia, on the other hand, needs soaking and pan-cooking. But, the textures are very similar.

With the couscous in mind and that packet of dalia at hand I got an inspiration a couple of years ago. Today dalia is a happy breakfast at our table on many Sunday mornings. Filled with the goodness of veges and fibre, and looow in fat, this (I’m gonna call it Sunday Dalia Twist!) is amongst super-healthy-eating husband’s favorite breakfasts! Porridge? That’s history.

Maybe I should call it Dalia Ravivar! Ice cream that is even better is a Sundae…Dalia that is nothing like porridge is Ravivar! (Lame? You suggest a name…really!)

Baakar Bhaji (Pumpkin Curry)

It’s Divali time. Yes, I am spelling it with a ‘v’ because that’s how we pronounce it, and I did finally get the difference in the v and w sounds (thanks, Bruce) even if I don’t always remember while speaking.

And all of us have a lot to do: clean the house (the curtains, the slip covers and cushion covers, and…), even get the house painted maybe (what a chore that is). And there are all the Divali goodies to be planned and cooked. I am sure most of the Indian food bloggers are going to put up quite a show.

Is there time to put a good meal on the table? I read Nandita’s comment and how busy she has been and thought it was time for another post in the ‘under 30 min’ category. Something to help you along while you spring clean and still score with the MIL (or TH, or the wife?) .

You’ll need to have access to one Maharashtrian spice though, the goda masala aka kala masala. There is no time to make it at home at the moment but you can find a recipe here (though not the way my MIL used to make). It is to Maharashtrian cuisine what the garam masala is to North Indian. Every family has their own variation and every shop (in Pune or Mumbai) seems to have its own recipe as well.

This summer I had planned to re-stock in Mumbai but the shops failed me. None that I visited, carried the really black kind. Most were a deep brown and did not use any coconut. Now why would it be called kala (black) masala if it was supposed to be brown! So I am going to have to make my own. I now have all the ingredients but have been putting it off. I am down to the last few teaspoons full. So…anytime now.

You cannot substitute the kala masala with any other because of this one spice, the pathar phool (translated: ’stone flower’), a kind of lichen! It gives the goda masala its distinctive taste and aroma. So, talk to your friendly Maharashtrian neighbour (hopefully, they have the black kind) and ask for some. While you are visiting, don’t be bashful, and ask for a little amsul or kokum as well.

Quick and Easy Salad

This is a quick salad to make. A good companion to different cuisines whether Indian, Italian, American, or even Chinese. In fact, it is inspired by Kylie Kwong’s tomato salad from her TV show Cooking with Heart and Soul, which I love watching. I have already made it thrice for dinner this week–just tomatoes (yum!), tomatoes and cucumber (no onions, as requested by TH), and then as per this recipe.

The simple recipe is versatile. Today I added a few cabbage leaves (chiffonade) and some cilantro as well. The taste is in the freshness of the ingredients with the fresh cracked pepper being of essence. Do not use pre-ground pepper. You could add torn spinach, iceberg lettuce, carrots, radishes…Makes a wonderful colourful addition to the meal. Simplicity at its best.

Bihari Mashed Potatoes

If you follow this blog then you know that potatoes are my second love. It is amazing how easily it makes a home in the cuisines of the world. It is very accomodating and definitely a team player. There are few dishes where it would be a no-no; sambar being one for me. Never in sambar. But it can be paired very well with peas and carrots, eggplant or cauliflower, with bitter gourd, colocasia, or even okra! It holds its own with greens such as spinach or methi; and takes on a whole different avtaar when cooked with mutton (but then do most other vegetables!).

For all my love of potatoes or maybe, because of it, I feel I can always use a new recipe. In this search I came across Bihari Aloo ka Bharta some time back. There are a number of sites (on the Web) that have the exact same recipe. My guess is that the mother-source may be Monica Bhide’s recipe at e-Gullet though the dish may actually be as homely (in Bihary homes) as the jeera aloo in Indian dhabas. I haven’t made any changes to the recipe other than what happens naturally when an Indian cooks; we never note down the amount of the various ingredients, relying instead on our own experience and preferences.

This dish is indeed more than the sum of its simple ingredients so opt out of any of them at your own peril. You could always call it something else. The crunch of the onion, the lingering taste of the garlic, the smoky heat of flakes of toasted chili, together with the addition of uncooked mustard oil brings the dish together. Even if you have never cooked with mustard oil before, I would suggest you give it the same respect you afford olive oil in a non-Indian recipe. It is the final finish for this dish. Skip it and you have a different animal to deal with. Besides, it wouldn’t be Bihari anymore.

Fat-free Potato Chips and Low-fat Kofta Curry

“Next, you’ll be telling me to boil poories”, is what my MIL had said in exasperation one day! Some of us take the low-fat thing to an extreme. I manage that myself sometimes. ‘Boiled poories’ may never happen but, recently, I have managed fat-free potato chips and low-fat ghia (bottle gourd) koftas.

Good enough.

For the fat-free chips you should go to 28 cooks. Her Microtato Chips taste exactly like the fried, out-of-bag variety! Absolutely unbelievable, but better believe it. Sorry, no pics. Nothing can hold off anyone from chips. Not even I. I kept my counsel and did not make outrageous demands like ” Hands off, till I shoot”. And these are fat-free chips, hello!

My guess is they may not store well. But you have to deal with that if there are any left over. If.

For the fat-free Potato Chips you need:

scrubbed potatoes
a well-oiled microwave-safe (glass) casserole dish (or wax paper)
seasoning (I used lemon-pepper salt + some of my own dry, crushed, mint)

Slice or peel (if you have a peeler that thick-peels) potatoes. Season as desired. Oil your casserole dish and spread the sliced potatoes in a single layer. Microwave for 5-7 min (5 if you peeled, and 7 if you sliced). You now have unbelievable crispy-brown potato chips. You do not need to oil the dish again tonight! Really.

The only drawback is that by the time (or before!) you make the next batch, the first one is gone. So you may not be able to feed an army peacefully. That’s all.

Now for that north Indian Kofta Curry. I made the koftas some time back, so the proportions are not exact, but those of you who have done some ’steaming’ should be able to manage quite well. Not the stuff for beginners, I’m afraid. I was using frozen ones today. These freeze well. I always make more than I need and freeze half of them.

Steamed Ghia Koftas
(all ingredients are approximate)

Peeled, grated ghia (bottle gourd)
1 1/2 C besan (chickpea flour)
1/2 C sooji (semolina)
garlic paste and grated ginger (to taste, optional)
1/2 t turmeric
2 t oil
salt
3/4 t baking soda

Bring water to boil in a pressure cooker or steamer. Mix all ingredients and pour into oiled pans for steaming. I use my steel pans that fit into each other. Steam (no pressure) for 25-30 min or till a toothpick comes out clean. Let cool. Remove and cut into cubes.

Al Yakhni (Bottle Gourd in a Yoghurt Sauce)

Agar firdaus bar ru-e zamin ast
Hami ast o-hami ast o-hami ast…If there is Paradise on earth, it is this, it is this, it is this…goes this famous Persian couplet

describing Kashmir, not the humble ghia (doodhi, bottle gourd) of course, or al (pronounced ‘ul’ as in ultra) in Kashmiri.

Let’s go back to Kashmir for a bit, away from the hot sultry environs of stuffy (at the moment) Delhi. While half the country is drowning in floods, there has been hardly any rain here in Delhi. The clouds come raising our hopes and then the winds just blow them away.

And the bottle gourd is the kind of mellow vegetable that sits well in this weather. Nature knows how to balance cravings with abundance. There is plenty of good gourd in the market. Cooked in a light sauce, not greasy, not spicy. Perfect with steamed rice. And I have been craving rice.

The other day my cousin’s wife was shocked that we, in this house, cook roti for both meals. Actually, I think she felt a little sorry for me…The only roti Kashmiris traditionally had was the breads from the friendly neighbourhood naanwai (baker). It is not that rice is not important in Maharashtrian cuisine. It is. In fact, in most homes, it is served as the first (with dal) and last course (with dahi) at all meals. But, as in my family here, roti is still the main course.

Kashmiri cuisine makes room for roti and breads only at breakfast and afternoon tea. And these are never made in the house. Rice is the main staple as it is in Southern India where all the dosas and idlis, so popular even in the North, are served only as tiffin, as ‘minor’ meals.

So, with all the roti around me at all meal-times, there are times when I need to get back in touch with my Kashmiri side. There is a deep satiation that can only be brought about by a meal of rice and curry. With nothing coming between you and your rice – mixing in bits of chunky vegetables or meat into the rice using your fingers and taking it from hand to mouth in a loving graceful move. It is an almost complete sensual involvement – the visual, the smell, the taste, and the touch.

The use of saunf (fennel) as an integral spice in Kashmiri cooking separates it completely from the other cuisines of North India. In fact, coriander, the most common of Indian spices, is not much used. And the coriander leaf (cilantro), never. I think the fennel is a Persian legacy, as are all the breads from the naanwai. The Mughals were in love with Kashmir as is obvious from the Persian couplet quoted at the beginning, and must have cooked up quite a Wazwan with their spices which, over time, got assimilated into the local cuisine.

Yakhni is the common name for all yoghurt based sauces. I don’t use the word ‘curry’ here because there is no such term in Kashmiri cuisine. This recipe for the bottle gourd is subtly spiced with fennel and dry ginger powder. It is mildly spicy without much heat since cayenne is not used (surprise, surprise). I do, however, like to add some green chillies (surprise, surprise!) which impart another degree of subtleness to the dish. Other vegetables that may be prepared in a similar way are the lotus stem (kamal kakdi – Hindi, nadur – Kashmiri) and karela (bitter gourd). The meat based yakni is different and uses additional spices.

Al Yakhni (Bottle Gourd in a Yoghurt Sauce)

A Breakfast of Scrambled Eggs

Eggs, cheese, and potatoes are what comfort foods are made of. And for all of them there are so many ways to cook – they lend themselves easily to different interpretations. There could be nothing simpler than a boiled egg. Though reams have be written on how to get the ‘perfect hard boiled egg’. I have done it a couple of ways and been satisfied with the results. But then again, I am not a chef.

For hard-boiled eggs put eggs in a pan and cover with cold water. Bring the water to boil and keep it at a rolling boil for 6 min. If the eggs were not at room temperature to begin with, I heat the water gradually and stir the eggs around till the water begins to boil. Drain immediately and re-fill the pan with cold water. This, friends, is the simple trick to avoid the greening of the yolk.

I learnt to make scrambled eggs, the American way, when I was a graduate student there. A friend of my sister’s took us to her home just before Christmas for a traditional meal of home-made waffles and scrambled eggs. And I realized that the moistness of the eggs is not from leaving the eggs undercooked but from all that cream and butter! Which was swell…Never, in my four years in the US of A, did I trust something that called itself ‘I Can’t Believe it’s Not Butter’. It’s not. And, I think that there was also a fat free butter!

My approach is simple. If you think something is not very good for you, don’t eat it, or moderate your intake. Don’t substitute with something that is just pretending. All that glitters is NOT gold. Look at what they are saying (rather, hiding) about aspartame today.

Ayurveda advocates ghee and butter as good fats. In fact, if our brains are primarily fat…low fat intake makes us less smart? All those people on ‘fat-free’ diets…? Hmm…that explains a lot!

Therefore, good creamy scrambled eggs on toast for a weekend breakfast is what the doctor ordered. Just follow the easy steps to make the best scrambled eggs you have ever eaten (so used to say my buddy Jim, and he had had some pretty good versions). Sprinkled generously with fresh ground pepper is my son’s favourite way to have eggs.

Simple Potato Curry from the fields of Western UP

Cooking ‘fresh and local’ is what Barbara would like…from me in Delhi? While there is lots that grows in and around Delhi, I can never tell if what I am eating was grown locally or if it is from the giant portion that a burgeoning city like Delhi needs to import from neighbouring states? Delhi is no different from other large cities that are ‘parasitic’ in nature, eating and drawing blood from further and further into the suburbs and never giving back.

The ecological footprint of Delhi keeps growing with our ever increasing demands for water, power and every other resource. We should soon be getting water from the Tehri dam…should I include the environmental impacts of the dam into the calculations? All we do is take the life out of the river Yamuna, along the flood plains of which there is still agriculture in the city! Maybe not for long…if Sheila Dixit gives in to the land mafia eyeing this last ‘open space’/ ‘vacant land’, for more buildings…

All I have in my yard is the kadi patta, some potted mint, and tulsi (holy basil). The Thai Basil succumbed this monsoon – too wet for it? Poor drainage, more likely. And I am (always) in the mood for (more) aloo.

And Agra, famous for the Taj, is also where my potatoes came from – just a couple of hours drive from Delhi – close enough to be classified as Delhi’s ‘backyard’, under these circumstances. The recipe is from there as well. A simple peasant dish, if you will, of gravied potatoes that relies on the more affordable onions and garlic (homegrown in most cases – in the villages, I mean) for spicing than on any of the other ‘fancy’ spices. These are ground, with a little turmeric, coriander and cayenne, on the sill-batta (sill=flat stone, batta= another word for stone – for pounding and grinding – a different north Indian take on the usual pestle and mortar) to prepare the wet masala. Coriander is amongst the cheapest of spices in India – cheaper garam masalas always have a higher proportion of this.

You cannot beat the sill-batta for its wet grinding prowess. The batta is used for smashing and pounding, and then for grinding with a flick of the wrist. A grinder can never approximate the cutneys off a sill.

If you ever pass by the jhuggi-jhompris (shanties) in our area in the evening, the smell of this masala is everywhere. An everyday tested and trusted recipe of the poor for a delicious dish with all the flavours of their fields back home.

Banana Nut Muffins

Teens are strange animals. Ani has stayed away from bananas for the last couple of years, but his favourite muffin is still the Banana Nut. So, while I coax and cajole him to pay more attention to his studies, I also bribe him with his favourite eats and snacks.

This morning we had them muffins for breakfast. This is unusual, since sugar at breakfast is very rare, perhaps all over the country. Doodh-jalebi (hot milk and jalebis) being one such breakfast, popular in parts of UP, that comes to mind.

On the other hand, sugar is big at breakfast-time (and other times) in the West. All the donuts, muffins, and cookies, not to mention the ’sugar bombs’ that Calvin (of the Calvin and Hobbes fame) starts off his day with. Americans consume a mind-boggling 170lbs per capita! Impresssive for a people who were introduced to sugar only in the 15th C! Sugar cane, the only source of Indian sugar, was growing here as far back as 325 BC. Today India is the second largest producer of sugar, after Brazil, but thankfully, despite the long tradition, our per capita consumption is amongst the lowest at 14kg (30lbs approx.). In my own house it is half of that! Part of that may be because I am from Kashmir which does not have much of a tradition of things sweet (compared to just about any other state of the country!).

Of course, white sugar is not the only form of sugar consumed in the country. More than a third of the sugar cane produce is diverted towards the making of gur (jaggery) and other less refined sugars which are an integral part of many regional cuisines. The Bengalis also use the sap from the date palm to derive the delicious, subtly flavoured, patali gur (palm sugar).

Psyco-analysis and A Potato Curry

And so the vegetable drought continues…since pumpkin and taro root don’t count for my son. The rest of the family ate those while he got his meat dish. Since my mother makes it better, I’ll post the delicious matsch (spicy meatballs in gravy) recipe from Kashmir, once she cooks it under my all-seeing eyes.

We have this joke about my mother not telling us the entire recipe; she tends to leave out an innocuous ingredient and we keep wondering why our version can never match hers. Sometimes it is the magic in her hands, at other times…

Anyway, there is this simple potato curry that she would make which was a family favourite. But every time I would try to recreate it in my kitchen (after I got married and had to cook regular food instead of the fancy-shmancy cakes and stuff) it would never come out the same. Where I had potato pieces in watery gravy, hers would be these crumbly potato chunks in a creamy tomatoey gravy. I tried all tricks, sauté-ing the potatoes longer, letting them cook partially before adding the tomatoes, and much else. Always using a pressure cooker like her. It would come out delicious and was much appreciated by the ILs but the husband knew…it was not quite there.

The Time Has Come…for Potatoes

The time has come, the Walrus said,
to talk of many things,
of ships and shoes and sealing wax,
of cabbages and kings…
and so I start my blog with lines from my all-time favourite book, Alice in Wonderland. About food, as a point of beginning, but hoping that it will take a life of its own and occasionally stray into other things.

I have been in the kitchen a lot this past week, baking and everything. Most of the recipes have been new-found ones from favourite blogs. But cookies cannot a lunch make. Usually. With the monsoon season in fullish swing, ’tis the season for limited choices, unless you don’t have teens in the family, and everybody agrees that gourds are heaven-sent.

Sookhe Aloo

So it fell on the ubiquitous aloo to deliver. That is one vegetable that even the most reluctant cook can do well, and in a jiffy. And in this hot and humid weather, you want to be in and out of the kitchen fast.

And this dish transports me to Pooh, a remote area in the Himachal mountains, where we visited my cousins when my son was not quite one year old. The dish had one spice that I had never before used with potatoes, and it totally transforms them. I don’t really know to which region the dish belongs because it was a masala given to my aunt by a friend in their Border Roads community that has people from all over the country…but she knew the ingredient that made it different.